But Bull didn’t have to conclude, for suddenly on the stillness there came the most appalling moan imaginable. It began low and deep and went on and up to end in a shuddering wail of anguish, dying away in the silence and darkness at last to leave the six boys staring at each other with wide eyes and tingling scalps. For a long moment after the sound was still none moved or spoke. Then Pete Brooks asked in a dry-lipped whisper: “What is it?” Bull shook his shoulders and laughed, but the laugh was certainly forced. “Nothing but a cow,” he declared loudly. “Lost her calf, maybe.” “It wasn’t any cow,” protested Harper soberly. “Besides, it came from the lake. Maybe it was a loon!” “Loons don’t make a noise like that,” said Charley Nagel, shaking his head and looking uneasily at the window. “Well, whatever it was,” said Bull grandly, “it cuts no ice with me. What you holding that beefsteak up there for, Harp? Trying to cool it? Gee, any one would think you’d seen a ghost, to look at you!” Harper smiled twistedly and put the steak back. From the next pan came the pungent odor of scorching onions, and he pushed the pan further from the fire and looked about for a knife. Then it came again! It was less a moan than a high-keyed, quivery scream this time, a scream of fear and pain that made the listeners’ hair lift on their heads and sent horrid cold shivers down their spines. No face in the cabin held much color when the last intolerable note passed sobbing away into the silence. Six boys stared stiffly at the window. A long moment went by. Charley Nagel sniffed then and Bull turned to him angrily. “What’s your trouble?” he demanded. “What you scared of? Gosh, the lot of you look like you were dying!” “You do, too,” whimpered Charley. “I――I want to go home!” he ended in a wail. “Oh, shut up! Whatever it is, it’s just a――just a noise, ain’t it? Come on, Pete! Let’s have a look.” He took an unenthusiastic step toward the window. Pete hung back, however. “What you afraid of?” jeered Bull, finding courage in brow-beating the others. “Well, I’m going to, anyway.” Shamed into it, Pete followed to the end of the little shack, and after a hesitant moment all save Charley did likewise. At the window Bull peered out. Before him the path of light led off into the forest. Right and left lay only gloom and the dimly seen trunks of trees. “Told you there wasn’t anything,” he growled. “Some sort of owl or something, I guess. Gee, you fellows――” “_What’s that?_” stammered Pete, leaning across his shoulder. “_Look!_” Bull looked and saw. At the end of the trail of radiance was an object that wiped away his courage and assurance as a wet sponge effaces markings on a slate. White and ghastly it was, wavering, uncertain; now tall and thin, now short and broad; but never still, its spectral bulk swaying from light to shadow, from darkness to radiance with unearthly motions. “_Gosh!_” gasped Bull faintly.